Karma
by HeartGold12
Summary: The Gajevy week challange! From greek tragedy to 'teamwork' to the definition of heart - No matter what they do, the universe always has them together in the end.
1. Gift

Hello! It's HeartGold12 briefly returning from my hiatus, and these will be my entries for the Gajevy week in 2014. The prompts will probably miss their dates by a bit (or more), because I've been very busy lately, but I'll try my best to do the essential part and upload every single prompt that has been posted, including the bonus january two and the second edition from march.

Keep in mind that some of the prompts will be short while others longer.

Also, the rating may vary, and will jump up to 'M' for suggestiveness.

**Prompt - Gift**

* * *

Gajeel has asked her once, somewhere between evening grocery shopping and a shared bath at the end of the fourth month, 'I'm not giving much to that baby, am I?'.

Honestly, he looked so lost to boot his sudden statement that she burst out laughing in his face and hadn't even regretted it - placing his huge, warm hand on her baby bump and wholeheartedly calling him an idiot.

Because if he thought that helping her with the wacky body changes and dealing with her mood swings while he was, say, on a hospital bed after a job-gone-wrong then he was ridiculous.

But as her stomach swelled and then the child residing inside demanded some freedom - and she was sweaty and overjoyed but also terrified at the same time, she briefly wished he was just a little bit right.

Because in the end, there wouldn't be a thing in her tiny son that _wasn't _like him.

And as the time passed, she was proven just about right.

"Dada!" The the two year old cried out at the top of his lungs in alarm, crashing full speed into the leg of his father and pointing upwards a silvery arm. The chainmail-like baby scales gave way to delicate skin just with a few deft touches to the pressure points, but the boy checked the hand by himself to make sure it was alright - before throwing himself back into the battle of rune knights and pirates that involved Mira and Erza's sons and Gray's daughter, screaming wildly as he fought for the independence of the sea. She'd absently noticed that his hair fell out of his braid again, whipping around his head like a small black cloud, but his red eyes were positively gleaming and she decided that for now, she'd let him get all dirty and muddy. It's not like he won't be coming back for something to eat in fifteen minutes, anyway.

As she kept watching her son like a hawk, her hand unconciously travelled to the swell of her abdomen.

"Did it kick?" Lucy asked softly, sitting next to her and rocking her own fussy baby.

"No, but..." Levy reconsidered. "Gale's a dragon slayer."

"They _all _are." Lucy hummed, startling as her baby gave a small whine, but she didn't cry. "Yeah, you too."

"But he also has Gajeel's hair, and eyes, and a large chunk of personality..." Levy trailed off. "It's like he gave his son everything he could, from his gender to his appetite, and totally disregarded the idea that I might want to pass something to him, too."

"He likes to pretend to read and memorizes new things, though." Lucy offered. "Even I can see it. And he's much more thoughtful. And he has your eyebrows."

"Gajeel also is thoughtful when he wants to." Levy grumbled unhappily, now staring at her husband, who, in the meantime, had a small chat with the Ice Mage and now returned to her side. "Hey."

"Hey." Gajeel replied, moving his hand to settle it fondly on her head. "What's with that face?"

"Do you remember when you wanted to give more to the baby?" Levy asked seriously.

Gajeel blinked. "Yeah, why?" The hand trailed down to her cheek, shoulder and then settled his palm on her stomach. She kept it there, her own small palms covering his own in a familiar manner.

"I think you gave a whole lot." Levy murmured, and then smiled at his expression. "So, this time _I _would like to be the more giving one, alright?"

"Uh." Gajeel blinked, before his face broke out into a smirk. "Alright, if you want to. That all?"

"Mm-hmm." The young woman smiled, ignoring Lucy's dumbfounded _isn't-this-already-decided-upon-conception?_ stare as Gale appeared by their side again, this time demanding biscuits and once again partially unleashing his scales. "I guess."

And when she was once again sweaty and exhausted, looking alongside her family at the tiny babe in her arms, she had the inkling again - telling her that she was.

* * *

I hope you liked it!

_~HeartGold12_


	2. Demons

It's me again! This time the story is longer. And to understand the atmosphere fully, think Game of Thrones X The Witcher.

**Prompt - Demons**

* * *

He was lazing around with some fellow drunkards when a young, shaken soldier burst into the bar, howling for help and practically peeing himself on the spot as he went on about man eating monsters.

At first, Gajeel had no intention of helping the reeking piece of shit with his monster problem - he still had money and there were plently nice-looking bars with nicer girls around town, so he'd decided to lay off the job for a short while. But there was something so pathetic about that orange-headed lil' guy, crying for someone to aid him in getting back a caravan he was supposed to be guarding in the first place, that prompted him to yell for more details, if only to prove how weak he was.

However, as the smelly-speedy spoke of things he couldn't possibly understand - things that had the long haired man actually getting to his feet and reaching for his hunter's knive - he knew that for once, he'd underestimated the intelligence of the soldier. A cat- A bird- A pretty chick with an even prettier pair of tits spewing some sort of nonsense - that was what the guy recalled, right before her pretty head was burrowed neck deep into the ribcage of his best buddy, tearing out his heart and carelessly throwing it aside in pursuit of a new target. She'd murdered everyone brave or stupid enough to stay in her victinity - he'd heard their horrified screams for hours after he'd escaped.

In short, a Sphinx. In elaborate, a hybrid between a feline, bird, and human, a relative to the much more common manticores, posessing great power and an even greater knowledge.

In bounty hunting, an exotic creature he'd probably only ever encounter once in a millenium or so, and only across the middle of the world in some hidden oasis, now strutting around in the middle of Greece a day away by foot.

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, he's had the speedy-smelly at a knifepoint and probably making him smell worse, if his face was any indication.

"Take me to her. Now."

* * *

Even if it took only an hour of preparation and three on horseback, the ride had been hell, with his guide freking out over the littlest commotion and making the horses nervous, at best. At worst, it caused Gajeel's mare to stand up with a distressed whine and almost throw him off her back - if he hadn't had as good reflexes as he did, he could've gotten bruised even before facing his opponent, and that would've been just shameful.

By the time he reached a lonely field with the wreckage in it's centre, he was alone.

Dismounting quietly, he smoothed his hand across the mare's neck, gripping the rains tightly in one hand and setting the other on a throwing knife at his hip. The sun was high in the sky, light and warmth falling onto the wreackage along with a light breeze. It didn't fit the scenery at all, but he'd long ago learned to stop expecting something as cliche as rain and darkness every time he'd set out on a hunt. No, what picked up his attention was the silence, a silence so thick and forebonding that his hearbeat picked up on it's own. For a forest to lack a single bird to sing it's song...

Then he'd smelled the corpses, and allowed their stench to guide him around the first couple of carriages and into the center of the attack, littered with butchered men and mountains of goods that she'd dragged over. His pierced eyebrows rose as he looked at them - books and gold, but mostly just books, stacked up neatly on some rocks so they wouldn't drag on the ground.

So she liked literature more than shiny objects? It fit into the description of being freakishly intelligent, but the thought of a woman preferring knowledge over jewelery and clothes and even delicate salted meats had him chuckling under his breath.

Then he was doing a backflip to avoid the ten blue claws crashing onto him from above and rolling out of the way of one colorful wing. The mare tore the reins from his grasp and jumped away to escape, and he used the momentary distraction to dig his knife into a feathery forearm, wincing as all he'd managed was a shallow cut to the appendage. The Sphinx jumped away before he'd had another chance at her side, flapping her magnificent wings and settling down a good distance away, watching him with bared teeth and unsheated claws from the cloud of dust she'd created.

And he watched her back, not taking his eyes off her once as he heard his horse run away as fast as it's hooves would carry it. A whole part of his plan was already a success - as long as he lived, his transportation would too, the sting in her shoulder made sure of that. Now he hoped that she'd keep going with her instincts and keep the supernatural at bay so he could kill her without any unplesant surprises, although his competitive side was already begging her to start talking in riddles and trying to outwit him so he could have more fun.

The dust settled, and they were yet to move. The time ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace. His forehead gathered some perspiration, her wing twitched distractedly, but all they were focused on was the opponent. He'd noticed though, that since he'd heard about her nice chest she'd managed to obtain a golden headband, and it's ends conveniently trailed all the way down to cover her breasts. The little proof of self-conciousness made him smirk.

"What are you grinning about, slayer?"

"You sense of modesty, lady."

The cat's ear twitched slightly, before she relaxed, her eyes still trained on him even as she stretched. The gold chimed softly as it parted with her bosom, trailing on the ground as she moved - but still not allowing his a glimpse of her breasts. Her claws sheathed and unsheathed as she stretched her paws out in front of her, the end of her tail jerking in interest.

"What of it?"

"It's kind of poor." He rumbled, sheathing the knife slowly, but keeping his hand on the handle. "Even if the headband _is _made of gold."

"Ohhhh." The Sphinx purred, catching the double meaning and seeming pleased with it. "So it's about the people of the caravan. Just so you know, they failed to answer my riddle. That's the only reason they're dead. I kind of wanted their books more than their hearts anyway."

"So you didn't want to kill them, but you felt obligated too?" Gajeel asked, brows furrowing.

"Yes. Because they didn't answer."

She didn't say anything after that, and seemed to silently study his expression. The wind picked up a little, bringing a new wave of stenches to assault his nose as they stood there, completely silent, once again just watching each other. He noticed her paws and body seemed to be those of an off-colored tiger, but he couldn't reconize the pattern on her wings. Really, the only part he could relate to was the peach-skinned girl with a soft smile and hazel eyes, with her face framed by a mane of wild, blue hair. And that one part was both deadly and distractingly adorable. He had to look out.

"Couldn't you just not ask?" He mumbled. The creature snorted softly.

"Impossble. I am a Sphinx. I ask every time."

Gajeel's eyes narrowed, and he shifted his stance. "So you will ask me too." Not much of a surprise here.

"Yes. I am making up a riddle as we speak." She murmured, before she started walking towards him, taking her sweet time to approach him and watching him tense up again with what appeared to be honest curiosity. "I only wonder if a hunter like you knows the rules?"

"I guess I could imagine them, but I'd rather not be wrong." He growled.

"Right. I'll tell you, then." The cat purred, still creeping closer. His hand tightened on the knife, the other bracing itself to push her off if she tried to tackle him - a gesture she ignored altogether.

"It's all about choices and outcomes, really. You can play with me, or you can try to leave or battle me - if that happens, I kill you. If you instead accept, I will tell you a riddle, and give you as much time as you want to figure out the answer, as long as you won't try to run away - because again, I will kill you."

She was getting really close to him now.

"Then, when you'll have it all figured out, and still be alive, you will tell me the answer to my riddle. If your answer will be wrong, I will kill you. But if, by any chance, you'll be right..."

She was _way too close_. He had the knife in a grip so tight he barely felt his fingers anymore, holding his breath as he felt it mingle with the monster's. Her eyes were large and shiny, her lips were plump and slightly open, and she smelled like blood and beast and summer.

"I'm going to let you kill me instead."

She stepped back- He could breathe again. Her tail drew a long arc around her body as she settled on the ground in front of him, beckoning with her paw to have him sit down with her.

"So... What do you say?"

He grunted something, staring down at her as she started grooming the wound he'd inflicted earlier. "What if I decline but manage to kill you instead?"

"Well, It obviously hadn't happened before." She purred.

Still, there was a wound on her shoulder. If all went to hell, he could at least rough her up in all the right places and get to his horse. So his options were still open, no matter how she told him otherwise.

Unless she had some hidden abilities and he'd carelessly got his ass into some real trouble. If that was the case, it was also his own fault.

"Fine."

Without further ado, the Sphinx opened her pretty mouth, and sang.

* * *

_It is the foundation of every history_

_neither can you hold it, nor me_

_It darkens right through our fingers._

Few hours later, and all he could think about was how she didn't have any bloody fingers. And darkens? Really?

_I like you, so I'll give you a hint. It's not what it seems to be._

Startling as he felt a soft tail flicker aganist his shoulder, he gawked at the feline as she settled next to him in her most classical pose, a large, leatherbound tome sitting between her front paws.

"I don't think sneering at me will help you find your answer." She hummed, flipping a page with a the tip of her claw and immersing herself in her lecture. The tail was still beating softly aganist his shoulder, a line of feathers on the side of the tail catching onto the studs on his forearm before he wrenched it off and moved away."

"You're a man-eater, bitch." He hissed, moving away from her. "And I kill your kind. There's no helping with the sneering, and..." He paused. "What's your problem anyway? I'm a little pawn in your mastermind game, but you decided to cozy up right next to me like you're not going to try to eat my heart later. Or, for that matter, like I'm not going to flay your hide when I figure out your fucking game."

"You're a fool." The Sphinx finally looked him in the eye. Her own were glimmering in the setting sun- he was getting sucked up into the pretty chick side again.

"Oh _really_?"

"You speak like there is no difference between individual human beings. As if I treat a man who invides me to a sexual intercourse like a common whore in the same manner as a man who actually challenges me in some way and is logical about it. If you're so curious, the answer to their riddle was a lack of an answer, and I actually enjoyed dissecting them and leaving out in the open, even if that one man ran away in the process. I'm not planning on hurting you unless you run away or answer me wrong."

Then she fell silent, moving past another couple of pages and falling into what he was quickly coming to call a 'controlled ignorance'. Feeling his mood plummet - and questions rise over the fact the Sphinx acted like some twisted human being, he sat cross-legged on the grass, and started mulling over the words again, and again, and again...

_Foundation of history. War? _

_We can't hold it. Time. Humanity. Or did she mean only the two of them?_

_It goes through our hands. Here comes time again, we can't stop it no matter what we do, because we're puny humans. Darkens... Dark times? Dark ages? Darkness?_

_But she said every history. Like stories about light ages too._

His frustrated scream was met with silence - he wasn't used to guessing too much. He was usually more focused on what he knew and putting it to good use_. The monster will use it's size to it's advatange at all times, may adapt to new enviroments, may chase you or return to it's lair. Eats humans for a purpose or not. Duck, roll, sidestep, strike, parry, cover yourself, don't stop, throw that knife now, go faster..._

"Hey, bitch."

"It's pretty ironic to call me that. I am a feline."

"Puss."

"What is it?"

"Fight me."

He didn't know what she was doing, but he'd heard a splash and a soft hiss. Then came the sound of rustling paper and the distinctive thump of a closing volume.

"Are you giving up?" She sounded dissapointed.

"No, just help my clear my mind. It's easier to think when I've got something to do with my hands."

He didn't have much more to say before she jumped at him, eyes widening as he rolled out of the way and got to his feet. Yanking his knife from it's sheath, he locked it with her mighty claws as she swiped at him, jumping back to avoid a strike to the face from one pretty wing and figuring out her strategy.

Hours passed. The sun had set, and the moon has risen - the stench of bodies was getting worse by the hour, so he'd moved back into the cover of the forest. He was sweaty, hungry and thirsty, a deep bloody gash running down the side of his shoulder, but instead of feeling accomplished at the bunch of stinging cuts on the Sphinx's wings, shoulders and hips, he was wondering over the answer of her riddle.

_Time. Time. Time. It's not what you think it is._

She threw herself at him, both falling on the leafy ground in a cursing and hissing bundle of limbs. He'd reached out to push her off, his nails digging into her fragile ribcage and pushing with all his might, the cool gold brushing aganist his hands and wrists. His palms felt soaked somewhat - he called out at her to stop as she pressed on his shoulders with her wings, staring up at his blackened palms. He didn't cut her stomach- What the hell was that smell?

"Oh." The cat gawked, reaching up her paws to the stains on her front. "I completely forgot, it spilled all over me..."

"What the fuck is this?" Gajeel asked her, eyes narrowing when she looked at him oddly.

"It's ink." She said, before grabbing him rougly and dragging him behind herself back to the field.

"Ink?" He echoed, looking back at the darkness of the forest. If there was any chance to escape from her, it was now. He didn't know where the knife went, but he had others - his mind swirled with those blasted three parts of her riddle, and-

He was sure he stopped breathing for a second.

_Time. Time. Time. Ink._

Ink was used to write stories. Ink was a liquid. Ink was dark. Ink sure as hell wasn't time of any sort. He hadn't realized he'd said it out loud until she stopped to look at him.

"Is this your answer?"

And what else fit the description if not the black stains of his hands? "I guess. Yeah, it is."

The look that immediately crossed her features had him reaching for another knife - her eyes were gleaming wildly and not all that friendly. He grinned tiredly, preparing emotionally for a really, _really _fast run in a few seconds."I suppose it's false?"

"No."

The grin fell from his lips. Her entire body bristled, as if she were upset, but then she sat back on the ground and cooled her expression. "It's correct, even if it wasn't a very... heroic... way to answer me. The accurate answer is indeed ink, a substance I adore for giving me the pleasure of reading. So..." Her cheeks puffed out, as if she lost a game, and not just gave up her life. "I guess you can start striking me with that dagger now. Good job, hunter. Sell my corpse for some real money."

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to start assaulting her. He started back, waiting for himself to move and finish her off. Her ribcage was frail and right now she wasn't protecting it - he could strike her between the ribs, right in the heart.

Instead, he sat down next to her, and she raised a blue eyebrow at him. "What are you doing?"

"Stop giving out riddles and killing for them." He growled.

"I don't believe I understand."

"You're fucking annoying and I don't understand you. So you're staying alive until I figure you out and decide what to do with you." For the first time, the Sphinx looked even remotely shocked. She'd gotten thrown out of her comfort zone, and if he wasn't so goddamn confused and possibly pissed, he'd laugh at her. "I'm too tired for this shit right now, Puss. I slay monsters for most of my life, and I hate them. I hate you, but you're... I can't kill you just yet until I understand what's your problem."

She was silent, gawking at him as he collapsed flat on his back and sighed heavily.

"I didn't even feel threatened. I _still _don't. If it was some shitty minotaur or anything, I'd still be standing in that field and gripping that knife, wondering if I wanted you to be killed as a beast or a smartass. Then you just cozied up with me like it was normal. And now I just don't care."

"But that doesn't make _sense_!" The Sphinx cried out.

"I fucking know!" He roared back at her. "Nothing in my life makes sense, so shut up and be grateful. If I don't kill you, you're stuck with me, so you stay here while I sleep and then we leave. And you don't play mind games and eat people."

"You're bending the laws of the world." The creature warned him. "The gods will be angry."

"The gods can go breed themselves a new batch of children to make them happy."

The Sphinx didn't say anything after that. She just mumbled something like Levy. He guessed it was her name.

"I'm Gajeel." He murmured in return, before succumbing to the fatigue and slipping out of conciousness.

* * *

I love weird endings.

_~HeartGold12_


	3. Teamwork

Next installment is here! I just wanted to say that for now, I'll be skipping the games prompt, because I'm a bit embarrased about writing it .;;; The winter break is ending, oh no...

**Prompt - Teamwork**

* * *

They are lurking. Bloody and greasy, they hide within the shadows, living, moving, hurting, _raging_. Sometimes, they're walking around aimlessly, only lunging after the noises that catch their attention. But mostly, they stand quietly - uselessly - and wait for the opportunity to rid themselves of the rage, unaware that no matter what they do, it will never be enough, that they will only make it _worse_.

None of them stands too much out of the crowd. There is no individual action, no interaction, unless they start beating and gnawing at each other out of instinct. It's like each of them is completely alone with their hunger, waiting for their cue - or death.

Some of them are partially eaten, moving whatever's left as the wounds bloat and mutate to keep them working. If not, they eventually fall down and die, just as soundlessly as they stood - God knows there's thousands ready to replace them.

The only unpredictables are the specials. The specials are different. Better. When they throw themselves into action, the win rarely doesn't go onto their side, especially if somewhere between standing next to each other like some hideous mannequins, they start triggering each other into joining the fray with their screaming.

A group of survivors bump into a group of such specials at the mall. Unluckily for them, the fastest of them quickly singles out the most wounded member of the party and attacks from above, driving it's claws into the man's stomach and making guts fly. The guy screams and trashes- they shoot the speedy, but then their redheaded companion calls out to them to run _run RUN_- before _a man-bomb of all things _goes out behind her back and she's dizzy and covered from head to toe in slimy goo.

The game is up, the horde howls and starts rolling out of the stores to get to the uninfected. The other guy grabs his last buddy by the hand and does as instructed, leaving the two behind as they crash into the fire escape. They're perpetually out of breath as it turns out it wasn't quite as abandoned as they thought, firing one round after another until they can't see the floor underneath the blood and corpses.

It gets harder and harder for them to navigate in this hellhole. They've gotta find the safehouse _now_ or it's over, and... and... What was that _sound_?

They don't have the time to answer themselves before the entire section of the wall gets blown up in the air, and a giant, hulking _thing_ steps out on their path, before reaching one freakinsh limb to grasp a chunk of rubble. It's _bloody _- the strands of long, black hair stick to his back and trail down his chest, caught in the layers upon layers of dried gore smeared over his bare upper body and what's left of his jeans. But the most noticeable thing is that it's _muscled_, like someone started pumping flesh into a man to the point where his skin started splintering open. Heaps upon heaps of bloodied flesh and some hair - yes, that's how the creature before them looks, right before it swings it's gorilla arm and throws another chunk of the wall right into their faces, following right behind it to pummel the group leader into the ground.

The last of them, a blonde, pretty girl, doesn't waste any more time before she's running at her top speed through the hallways, dodging a screaming zombie or two and giving a choked sob of relief as she sees the telltale red door to victory - almost jumping out of her skin as the ground quakes and the incredible hulk roars his fast return. Bumping aganist the armored thing, she yanks at the handle and jumps inside, securing it shut right before the abomination smashes his fist in the empty space that just a second ago used to be her head.

The lone survivor falls to the ground, breathing heavily as the infected keeps trying to break down the door. It splinters a bit, then a bit more- her breathing picks up. Isn't that impossible? She's gotten to the safe room, so...

Then she hears the sobbing, and her blood runs cold. Feeling herself tremble, she runs a sweaty hand down her equally sweaty face, and slowly_, oh so slowly_, turns around to look behind herself.

_She's tiny. _

Her entire form is famished, with the dress hanging from her like a dirty curtain. She's curled up into a fetal position, keeping her face down and obscured by her hair, and the only indication that _she's going to kill her _is a pair of clawed hands and her quieting sobbing, replaced by a shrill growling that gets louder every time the ground quakes-

The door breaks down, and the infected screams, scrambling to her feet as her glowing eyes zero in on the terrified survivor. Behind the empty doorframe, the deliquent hulk roars himself, and the next ten seconds are filled with bloodcurdling screaming as the two creatures...

Score for their team.

"You've got to be _shitting _me."

Gajeel grins as Lucy's voice curses in his headphones and through the wall to the living room, sharing a look with the blue haired girl on his lap as he scrolls through the options to start another round. They can both hear Jet and Droy cheering for their good job from their place, and Natsu's annoyed shouting at having been pummeled _and _promptly thrown out of a building.

"A _Witch _in the safe room?! That's just not fair."

"Sorry, Lu-chan." Levy apologizes from her spot on his lap, smirking up at him and showing him her crossed fingers. "It was a strategy, though. You know, like the time Erza started taking me out with her sniper rifle in, like, _every _map with some open space. So if it bothers you, this time, _you _can be the special infected."

"And get killed ten times over, yeah, _right_." Her best friend answers sarcastically, before starting to shout at Natsu to stop overheating his controller before he breaks it.

"I guess going on a trip to the games resort wasn't such a good idea, after all." Erza mumbles quietly in the background, and both of them can't quite stop their snickers, watching the lacrima screen as the opening scene passes and they're ready to go again. Levy lets her head fall aganist Gajeel's shoulder as she gets more comfortable, and they start quietly planning their next trap.

In a minute, they're once again chasing the survivors through the farmlands, with her hiding in the hay and waiting for someone to startle her.

"M-hmm." Gray mumbles, equipping himself with the sniper rifle and grabbing some pills before going for the exact same patch of hay. "Not a good idea at all."

* * *

_~HeartGold12_


	4. Games

**Warning! It's mildly descriptive. Definietely NSFW.**

**Prompt - Games**

* * *

It wasn't an affair and they weren't lovers.

It was a _game_. A very twisted round of chess where they were both the queens and pawns at the same time, pretending that everything was normal while it wasn't. They were practically addicted to it, addicted to the danger and excitement and finding out just how far they could stretch their boundaries before the ever-meddling Mirajane would slap a bounty on both their asses. And most importantly, they couldn't get enough of the pleasure.

Oh, _the pleasure_.

It always started with an expression. It wasn't a smile, not quite - since Gajeel Redfox didn't do smiling - but not a huge cocky smirk either, because people would eventually notice her doing it and get suspicious. It was just her innocently sitting down next to him and Lily, asking how'd the mission go, and then giving him a particular expression that others would pass up for being glad or playful or whatever - he knew better - and when she was leaving the guild in the evening and diving into the late-hour crowd, he was already with her, _on _her.

She could feel his hands flutter against her stomach and thighs, slipping from her heaving breasts to her neck and then scratching lightly at her scalp. She'd taken a habit to jog lightly as he did that - to stall him, to find a spot to hide them away from the masses and to excuse her blush - answering all of the 'good-evenings' and comments about her looks with a perfectly trained smile, even as she felt his fingers shamelessly probe at her most private parts, pressing, pinching and making her whimper.

They made a point to never use the same place twice in a row to make it more interesting, so they often ended up doing it in the guild, or alleyways, or the mall, and in parks and libraries - breathing heavy and moving in sync with each other as they took their sweet time, daring someone to stumble upon them. Sometimes, he even managed to elude _Erza_ and catch her off-guard in her own bed.

And then there was that one time where she'd _literally _took him on a mission with her team... and didn't even feel guilty. Well, _much_.

Really, it was just too much fun. Of course, they both 'made love' and... _fucked_, to be just, in his house too, usually when Lily was out of town. It was also very nice, because they could go all out or do what they wanted as long as they wanted to, without worrying about any consequences. It made her feel oddly secure, and was probably why the difference was as big as it was, and as good. Sex in public was, well, anything but safe. Add the fact their _relationship _was a bit of a secret, and just the pleasantly ticklish presence of his shadow slipping off some chair and settling down in the shadows underneath her clothes set her mind reeling.

Sometimes, when she was sprawled on the grass, crooning Gajeel's name into his ear as their hips cooperated to make all sorts of delicious sounds and feelings, she imagined that someone she knew was actually in there, staring at them in shock. Then she proceeded to describe the situation the best she could to him - the wide eyes, open mouth that couldn't quite alert anyone of what was happening, bright red face reflecting all the mortification _they _should be feeling, and finally, oh finally, that gaze, focused on them as they stared right back.

She usually had bite marks on her on those days, along with a lot of scratches from his stubble. Guess he could imagine it too.

In the end, when the romp was all but a vivid memory and she'd _accidentally _bump into him to go get something to eat or just hang out, discussing what was good and what was bad, they both admitted that nobody would actually catch them, ever - his senses would single out any incoming person, and she'd just cloak them up or yank her clothes back on while he melted back into her shadow. The only people finding out about them could therefore be their guildmates or other mages, and putting Mirajane, Erza and a select others aside, everyone would be cool with it, no matter how odd. Their guild could put up with, as he had said it, '_a lot of weird shit.'_

So, to sum it up, they were playing a dangerous yet non-dangerous (but knowing Mirajane, still dangerous), pleasurable game. A pair of friends with benefits, not lovers or anything, using the quirks of their magic to go undetected with their romps.

Even though sometimes, when they were sweaty, rumpled and absolutely exhausted, she would start kissing him just for that - to kiss him. Or that he'd kiss back, slanting his mouth against hers, coaxing her to play with him until they'd run out of breath, and after breaking away, it would be kind of awkward, but not _too _much.

Or that they often just stayed with each other - to the point when sometimes she was just hanging out at his house in his shirt and cooking some late breakfast while he watched her.

And when one of them got hurt on a job, the other would offer the 'making love' sex variation, and for once, it would be absolutely _tender_.

They weren't lovers.

They were just friends.

It wasn't an affair.

It was just a _game_.

But sometimes, when she was curled up in his arms, pressing her face into the warm skin of his neck while he caressed her naked back, she wondered if it was really as true as they claimed.

* * *

A/N: Don't look at me DON'T LOOK AT ME

_~HeartGold12_


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